Love lessons
by Luuh-sama
Summary: Alfred is in love, and he'll do anything to make Matthew feel the same way towards him. In this case, who better than the frenchman to give him love advices? Us/Can, a little FrUK; Human names used.
1. Prologue

So, I kinda had this idea some time ago and decided to write. This is just the prologue, but I want to know what you guys think, 'cause I really don't know if I should write more or not. Comment, please, if you liked and if you have an opinion.

[This was written in portugues, originaly, so sorry if there are any mistakes]

Us/Can ahead!

**Prologue**

**Two minutes to five.**

Alfred had never imagined to be in this kind of situation

Of course, he had already imagined himself in love –madly, for someone who would be as madly in love as he- but never something like this. He shifted on his bed for the twentieth time and looked at the clock. Four and fifty two in the morning. He hadn't even taken a nap and there was only one thing (better saying, one person) who prevented him from having his herioc slumber. He burried his face on the pillow, images of the first time he realized he was in love passing through his eyes, like a movie that he didn't want to, _but couldn't resist to_, watch.

It was more than two weeks ago that he started sleeping less. The others noticed –Arthur had been asking more than once if he was okay and if it woulnd't be better to take a mug of tea to calm down.- but he refused, with the good and olg though "Tonight, I'll sleep well, tonight, I'll clean my mind and rest, _tonight, I'll forget him_" and this routine was getting tired.

The laugh of his brother echoed in his mind. They were sitting in the chairs of the McDonald's near the building where the meeting had just happened. Francis and Arthur had gone to have lunch together, saying something about a bet, and that just left the two North American brothers by themselves. Matthew was looking at him, violet eyes watching him with tenderness while Alfred ate his burger. He said something stupid and ketchup slipped on his shirt, making him curse without actually being mad. He looked up when Matthew laughed, the light of late afternoon on the window behind him made his smile even more bright. And just like that, exactly two weeks ago, Alfred saw himself falling for his brother, completely in love.

He shook his head, throwing the images away. His heart skipped a beat and he sighed, wondering if it would be like that forever. He turned again and looked at the clock. Four and fifty three in the morning.

He grunted, feeling a lump on his throat and sat on his bed. He put his elbows on his knees and his hand over his face. His fingers grabbed his hair and he cried –cried like he had finally let out the children that lived inside of him, but without losing himself. He cried silently, the tears rolling down his face and his heart tightening, and he stayed like that, for what seemed like hours, but his clock –_and dammed clock_!- insist it had been merely five minutes.

"Alfred?"

His eyes shot open, still with tears on it, and he heard that voice again. It was his mind mocking him and he knew that. But the voice persisted. _Matthew's voice_ in his mind, making him remember how much he loved him, desired him, needed him. And how he couldn't have him.

"Al, you're the best brother in this world."

He clenched his wrist and slammed it against the wall behind his bed, leaving a nice black scar on the white wall. He faced the floor, his wrist still against the wall. Suddenly, he lifted his face, blue eyes shining with determination.

He was going to put everything at risk: Their friendship, their old relation, the strong bond that only brothers could share. He was going to tell everything, all his feelings. Tell him how in just two weeks, he could steal all his nights of beautiful sleep, and how he could fill the most special place inside his head and heart. Tell him how suddenly all he had was upside-down and the only thing that made sense was him –and how much he loved him.

Alfred wiped the tears of his face and, finally, smiled. A sad smile, of someone who is ready to lose everything, but still determined. And just like that, he lied down, ignoring the sound of his bed and the little dust that came out of the cracked wall. And he slept.

It was four and fifty eight in the morning.


	2. Loving consuler

So, the title 'loving Consuler' is a translation of 'Conselheiro amoroso', that's the name of the movie 'Hicth - the cure for the common man' in Portuguese [Brazilian Portuguese] I though it was the same name in English but so it happens it isn't. And 'The cure for the common man' is really not the best title.

Tell me if there are any mistakes :D

**Chapter one.**

**Loving** **Consuler**

Alfred paced, back and forth, in the big hall in front of Francis' office. He sighed, wondering if he had had some kind of drug to call the frenchman and ask for a love advice.

First, he had considered calling Arthur. He would be way more comfortable in the presence of the Brit, and he surely trusted him more than the frenchman. Arthur had been his big brother, almost like his father, and would obviously be the right person to become Alfred's 'loving consuler'.

But, there was just a little problem: Arthur was terrible when the subject is love.

And of course the American knew that. He had lived with the British long enough to know it, and, if he had learned something through all those years, that was 'What you should **not** do in a relationship'.

Arthur not only didn't understand a thing about relationships as he was completely unaware of how to approach someone. Nevertheless, he knew how to keep a stable and healthy relationship –All the times, of course, being the other person who started everything.

But 'keeping a relationship' was the last thing Alfred wanted right now. So, he had called Francis that morning, the self-proclaimed 'country of love', and said he had a problem... a love one.

He was going insane.

He stopped in front of the door, facing it like it was the door to hell. Then, hesitantly, he knocked. He heard a small 'come in' and sighed, summoning courage enough to open the door.

Francis was on his chair, with his back to Alfred, enjoying the view of the large window on his office. Alfred was also apreciating it, before the frenchman slowly turned to look at the American. His blue eyes shining and a malicious smile on his face.

"Alfred" he said, "please, have a seat"

Alfred heard his 'inner Arthur' screaming _"Go away!"_ but he just nodded and sat on the chair. The beautiful wooden table separating the two men.

"So, let me see if I got this right." He started, his french accent thick "You want me to help you with... How's that word again? ... Ah!" His smile was even bigger now "_court_ someone?"

Alfred gulped, but kept his look strong and nodded. Francis laughed

"So, can I know the name of lucky one?" He asked, resting his elbows in the wooden table.

Alfred had pondered about this. He didn't mind to tell anyone that it was his brother who he was in love with -But right now, he was wiling to make it a secret. Besides, maybe it was better that Francis didn't know it was ex-colony they're talking about.

"Sorry" he smiled "But you'll have to figure it out by yourself".

Francis raised an eyebrow and Alfred knew he could extract the thruth from him at any moment. But seems like he wasn't in the mood for that right now.

"So, let's start" He reached for his cup of tea and took a sip, before looking at Alfred straight in the eyes. "The first thing to do is to know everything about this person, what this person likes or wich places they go. That's really important so to know what you have in common. So, look for everything, even if you have to S&S." the American gave him a confused look and he explained "Spy and Stalk".

Alfred opened his mouth to ask, but then closed. Maybe it would be better if he didn't know who Francis had ever S&S. "Okay, but I think I won't need it. We know each other really well"

Francis smirked. "So, it's someone you know pretty well, huh... That limits the number of people." Of course, that was a lie. Alfred had a lot of friends, it could be anyone, but it still was a kind of psychological pressure. "Just teasing" Francis added, taking another sip of his coffee. Oh, that was simply amazing. Finally somenone had acknowledged him as the 'master of love' "So, the next step it to make this person realize your real intentios. In this case, dates –going to the movies or parties, or even a simple lunch– can be really helpful."

Alfred leaned back on his chair, feeling a bit more relaxed as he contemplated what the frenchman said. He and Matthew were always hanging out together, so it was difficult to show it meant something more. Apparently, Francis noticed his expression and continued.

"Of course, gestures are worth a thousand words. Paying for the dinner, for example." He put the cup of coffee aside and got up from his chair, stopping near the American. He kept his right arm to the side of his body, bent, like he was holding the waist of an invisible girl. "When walking, keep your hands at the back of his person, like you're going to _danse la_ _valse_...At the back, not futher down." He laughed but Alfred ignored, paying close attention to the movement. "When you're sitting in a bench, you can always stretch you arm to put the hand on this person's shoulder..."

He was now gesturing it. Alfred observed carefully and he wished he had a notebook with him to write down everything. He smiled and nodded everytime Francis talked about a gesture and struggled to memorize every 'hitting on'. He knew he had made a wonderful choice when he looked for the frenchman.

But something was bothering him "One question." He raised his hand, like he was a kid at school "Can I tell this person my feelings, like, being really blunt?" He considered doing it with Matthew before calling Francis, and he wanted to know if it would have been a good option.

"_Quoi! Non! __Mon dieu_, where did that came from! This is the worst thing to do, just idiots that don't know the essence of _l'amour_ would do something like that." He snorted, shaking his head, murmuring something like 'Arthur didn't teach you a thing..."

Alfred made a face, with a bright smile despite the light blush on his cheeks, feeling a bit embarrassed for asking (what seemed like) a stupid question. "Ah, okay." He rubbed his hair and saw Francis staring at nowhere, a thoughtful look on his face. "So... That's all?"

"_Oui_, that's all..." He answered, but it looked like he was thinking about something else.

"All right!" Alfred got up with a jump, sparks on his eyes, happy as he had finally learned at least a few things about this love stuff. "So, I'll be going by now, okay? I think I'll stop in McDonald's and..." He opened the door and looked at the frenchman "What about I come back next week?"

Francis' hand slammed the door shut and his face was now inches away from Alfred's. The American looked at him, confusion is his eyes, and Francis avoided his gaze.

"Arthur..." His blue eyes were now looking at Alfred's blue ones. "Is it Arthur?" He asked, one eyebrom raised, but his tone was serious.

Alfred was shocked. Then, disgusted.

"Wh-what! No! That's crazy!" He frowned, where the hell did that came from? "Arthur is my old man, it could be anyone but him, okay?" He snorted, looking at the frenchman when he sighed. Alfred frowned again at the look in his eyes.

Wait.

"Why do you as—"

"Nothing." Francis quickly answered. Too quickly. "Really, nothing." He stood straight and opened the door. "Just... If it was Arthur, porbably nothing of what I said would have worked."

Alfred stared at him for a bit, confused. There was something wrong, but he couldn't exactly say what. If Francis wanted Arthur, then he should be happy that Alfred wasn't interested, not... Sad. The American opened his mouth but the frenchman interrupted.

"So, I see you next week, same time." He pushed Alfred out "Tell me if everything goes well." Francis said, closing the door, leaving an open-mouthed American facing the door.


	3. Matthew and me

Second chapter up.

This chapter was supposed to be... Funny? idk. I didn't like this altought, but I'm really happy with the ones about to come.  
Review, please, so I'll know what you guys think.

And tell me if there are any mistakes ~

**Chapter ****two.**

**Matthew ****and me.**

"Excuse me. Can you tell me what time is it?"

Alfred looked at the tall and bearded man in front of him. "Ha, sure, it's six thirty" he answered, glancing at his watch. 'he's late...' Alfred thought, and the man thanked him and turned to go away.

The american sighed, nervous. It was a Friday night and the cold air made him shiver, even with his bomb jacket. According to Francis, dates are better at night so, the day before, Alfred had called his brother and asked him if he would like to go to the movies with him, wich he politely agreed.

'But still, he's late...!" Alfred started pacing in front of the white bench in the park he now was. On the other side of the street, was a big theatre movies. It wasn't like his brother to be late and the film was about to start. Maybe he didn't want to come? Maybe he figured out Alfred's feelings and now he wouldn't show up –or talk to Alfred ever again.

Groaning, Alfred sat on the bench, picking his cell phone. When he was about to dial Matthew's number, however, he felt two hands cover his eyes, making his glasses almost fall.

"Matt?" He asked and a wave of relief washed over him. His brother took his hands away from his face and looked at his brother, behind the bench. Laughing, he picked Alfred's glasses.

"You're late" Alfred said and blushed when Matthew put his glasses back on place, his face too close.

"No, you're the one who came here too early." He said, but the violet eyes softened. "Sorry, I was planning a speech for a meeting tomorrow." The canadian made a face. He hated to speak in public, even when it was only his bosses.

Alfred smiled and got up, his heart beating faster as he looked at his brother. He was wearing a red shirt under a nice white coat, with dark jeans and black shoes. Of course, he was half-french, and obvioulsy Francis had taught him how to dress well. Alfred just wondered why Francis hadn't say a thing about his own clothes. He was wearing his everyday clothes, his brown jacket, a white shirt and the same jeans.

He had to remember to ask classes about how to dress... Maybe next week...

"So... Uhn, let's go?" Matthew cut his thoughts and smiled, walking form behind the bench and looking at the tall building. "What movie did you choose?" He asked, without looking at Alfred.

The american smiled and reached for the tickets in his pocket. "Marley and Me." His smile grew. He called Francis yesterday and he said that romantic films were perfect for a date. He gave Matthew his ticket and saw the canadian raising one eyebrow. "What?"

"No... Nothing." He said, but kept his curious gaze at his ticket.

They both crossed the street and entered the building, Alfred kept his hand on Matthew's back, as Francis showed him. There, Alfred told his brother to look for seats as he went to buy the popcorn and the drinks. Then, he entered the theater and sat with his brother, to enjoy the film.

And after a few minutes, the disaster began.

Alfred reached for popcorn when he saw it was empty. "Matt...?" The other replied with a 'hm' "My popcorn is over... Would you mind to share?"

Alfred felt his heart flutering when Matthew smiled "Sure", the american grabbed his brother's popcorn and ate it while the movie finally started after long trailers. In few minutes, however, he was looking at the empty bag on his lap.

'_Great, Alfred__.'_ a voice sounded in his mind as he looked apologetically at his brother, who shrugged, like he was used to it. They both looked again at the big screen.

By the middle of the movie, Alfred was drinking his coke when he looked at his brother. He was probably hungry by now, and Alfred offered his drink. Before Matthew could take it, a guy sitting next to them got up and bumped on Alfred's extended arm. The guy murmured an apology, but Alfred was too focused on the nice stain of coke on Matthew's white coat. "Oh crap..." He looked for the napkins when he remembered he didn't have time to get any. _'Great, just... great'._ Matthew gave a shy smile and had to stip off his coat, being only with his red shirt in the cold movie theater.

Alfred sighed as he got up and took off his jacket. Okay, that was his first real date, he just had to calm down. He smiled and gave his brother his brown jacket, shivering in the cold air. He was about to curse someone who was complaining about he being standing in front of them, when Matthew gave him a beautiful smile, with a little flush on his cheeks and a 'thank you'.

The american felt his own blush and his eyes held renewed determination. He sat and streched his hand to hold his brother's but missed for the canadian was dressing the large coat. When they were both confortable, the white stained coat on Matthew's lap, Alfred strained his arm to put around his brother's shoulders, just like Francis had taught him, and smiled when finally succeded to do something right that night. He leaned into his brother and felt the other doing the same, blushing even more but with a triumphant smile, before they both started to pay attention to the movie again.

"_Marley!" _John screamed when he found the sick dog behind a tree. _"Marley, what's up...?"_

Alfred felt a lump on his throat. Crap, he loved dogs, and these kind of stories always made him feel gloomy, but he wasn't going to cry –not in his first date with his love and-

A woman in front of them started crying. Soon, more people folloewd her when Marley was about to die. Alfred sniffed, and when he heard Matthew doing the same, he took his arm of the other's shoulder and wiped the tears from his eyes. When he looked again, Marley dying and half of the people crying, he just couldn't hold back.

He felt Matthew's hand on his back, soothing him as he cried.

They stayed there for a few minutes, until Alfred had stopped crying. Then, they got out, Alfred holding Matthew's arm as the crossed the street and sat on the white bench they were only two hours ago.

Alfred sighed, wiping away the remaining tears and heard his brother quietly laughing, putting his white coat on the bench. He raised an eyebrow "What?".

Matthew stared at him, still laughing. "It's just... I knew this was going to end up like this." Alfred noticed the red on the edge of the violet eyes and chuckled. Seems like Matthew was also affected by that movie, but at least, he didn't cry pathetically.

"I think I should choose the movies next time." Matthew whispered and Alfred instantly felt a wave of happines. Next time? So, his brother was looking forward a next time? He locked eyes with Matthew and nodded, unable to keep away the bright smile.

"Sure!" He said "I've never been good to choose movies anyway..." He addmited, and laughed when Matthew did the same. They both talked about when they were at Arthur's house, all the movies Alfred had picked for them to watch at night.

"The worst movies I've watched, those nights..." Matthew said, before the violet eyes widened and he got up. "Oh god... What time is it?"

Alfred looked at his watch. "It's almost ten" he raised an eyebrow. It was pretty late and neither of them felt the hours passing.

"Oh... My meeting tomorrow! I still have things to prepare." Matthew turned at his brother, who got up of the bench, holding Matthew's white coat. But before Alfred could give the canadian his coat, Matthew gave him a quick hug "See you, Al..." and then he stormed away.

Alfred watched his brother desapear in the corner, holding the stained coat. "But... I should take you home."He sighed. The wind blew, making the american shiver, before he screamed, even though he knew Matthew couldn't hear him "And you have my jacket!"

He sighed again and looked at Matthew's coat. There was a nice stain and Alfred knew that no laundry could take care of that. _'Crap!' _he mentally cursed, as he kicked a little rock near him. The rock hit a car and came back, hitting Alfred's forehead, before landing near a store on the other side of street.

Alfred rubbed his forehead. _"Damn rock. __Damn coat. Damn Marley." _He cursed again, before noticing to where the rock had landed.

That was interesting.

The store had a big inscription in red letters "Toy's paradise", with a huge white bear in the front. A toy store, Alfred smiled. He had to make up for his brother for the ruined coat and he just knew what to do.

He couldn't wait for the next date.


End file.
